


Light is Born of Darkness

by Athena_Archer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, F/M, Harry needs Draco, Healer Draco Malfoy, Injured Harry Potter, Love, M/M, Slow Burn, draco needs harry, fake identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena_Archer/pseuds/Athena_Archer
Summary: After a shocking curse in Diagon Alley Harry can’t see. Left blind and bitter Harry refuses to do anything. Ron and Hermione decide to step in and get him a healer. To Harry, Healer Derek is a challenging enigma, one he likes very much. To Derek, er Draco, Harry is someone he can’t stay away from. Can these two idiots find the light in the darkness through hidden identities and other problems?
Relationships: Drarry - Relationship, Harry Potter/ Draco Malfoy, Minor Romione - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 153





	Light is Born of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much for deciding to give this a chance, I really hope you enjoy! If there are any mistakes please let me know! I am trying to improve my writing skills so any advise or critique or overall opinions would be amazing!

Harry smiled to himself as he walked through Diagon Alley. It was his first day off in a long time and he was enjoying it. 

He had been standing in front of the store window for quidditch supplies for the last couple minutes and he still couldn’t decide. Along with a new model of Firebolts, they were selling a miniature solid gold model of his Firebolt that Sirius had given him. 

He had the galleons for it, but it was a bit excessive. It floated above a golden pedestal and was beautiful. Maybe he’d buy it for himself later for his birthday. 

Harry turned away from the window, using every ounce of self-control he had. 

He walked through the crowd and tried to ignore all of the people staring at him. They only wanted him for his name and fame. Something about these large crowds always made him feel lonelier than ever. 

He watched as kids shopped with their parents. As couples held hands and kissed. That’s what he wanted. 

Harry continued to walk down the street, maybe he’d visit George. 

The searing pain was startling and unexpected. It started in his eyes and spread through his whole head. The pain was unbearable. 

“Well deserved Harry Potter,” he heard a voice whisper to him before he passed out. 

  
  


________________

  
  


Harry heard the sound of the door creaking open. 

“Go the fuck away,” he croaked out, “I told you all to leave me to die!” 

“Harry,” Hermione begged, “please, let us help you.” 

Harry didn’t even bother replying. He turned over in his bed, hoping he was facing away from her. He never thought he would miss seeing so much. 

“You are going to have to go home soon, and I refuse to let you leave here without committing to a healer,” she said fiercely. 

“You can’t force me to do anything. I’m Harry fucking Potter right? That’s why all of this happened. So leave me alone. I don’t need anyone or anything.” 

Harry could hear Hermione sigh before leaving the room. He had never noticed how much he could tell just using his hearing. 

Hermione and Ron hadn’t stopped bugging him about a healer and how it would help. But they didn’t understand. He couldn’t see. How could anyone help that? How could anyone help him? 

Harry clenched his sheets roughly between his fists. Everything taken away. Not even from being an Auror. Just because he happened to be Harry Potter and that put a target on him. 

“Fuck you!” He shouted, “fuck you universe! Haven’t you screwed me over enough? Haven’t I suffered enough? Fuck you!” 

He heard people rush into the room. This was becoming a routine. In about five seconds they would pump him full of something calming. 

Ahhh there it was. 

“Mr. Potter, as we have said before, we need you to remain calm and quiet. There are other patients attempting to heal,” said an unknown healer, scolding him like McGonagall used to. 

“I don’t care. I’m Harry Potter, tell them to deal.” 

He heard one of the healers clucking their tongue disapprovingly.

“You will be discharged soon. We have given Ms. Granger a list of our top healers. If you choose to forgo that option there is nothing else we can do.” Someone said. 

“Nothing else?” Harry yelled, “you say that as if you have done something! I thought you had magic, I thought you were all healers! Why can’t you help me?” 

“We have explained this multiple times Mr. Potter. Our research in this area of curses and injuries is very little. One of our suggested healers may be able to improve your sight though.” 

“You said no one can heal my sight,” Harry screeched, fighting off the drug, “you told me I would never see the same! That I would never be an Auror again! Never be able to ride a broom. That my life would never be the same! So don’t act like any healer can bring me hope! Just let me die!” 

None of the healers replied. There was nothing to say. 

“Get the fuck out of my room. Don’t come back unless you are discharging me.” 

Harry couldn’t stop yelling. It was all he could do to get out his anger. They wouldn’t let him walk or move around. They wouldn’t let him use the bathroom alone. They wouldn’t let him be. 

“I want my life back!” He shouted. 

  
  


___________

  
  


Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder, tears rushing down her cheeks silently. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said quietly, “this isn’t something I can research or study. I can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to. And I don’t even know if I blame him for not wanting help.” 

“He just needs a kick in the ass,” Ron said, “he needs to get over the shock. Harry will be okay, he always is.” 

“He still won’t choose a healer,” she murmured.

“Then we choose one for him,” Ron said determinedly. 

“What if he hates us?” 

“What if we do nothing and he never sees anything again?” Ron responded.

Hermione just nodded softly. There was no correct choice to make here. They just had to do what they believed was best. 

“I think we should choose one that specializes in mind healing along with optic healing,” she said smartly. 

“Whatever you think is best.” Ron had learned long ago that Hermione was usually right and that it was smart to just go with what she believed was right. 

Hermione stood up and walked over to Healer Lorcan. 

“I would like to contact and hire an at home healer for Harry Potter.” 

Healer Lorcan looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Has Mr. Potter approved this?” 

“No,” she said stubbornly, “and I don’t care.” 

He shrugged before responding.

“Okay, what are you specifically looking for?” 

“I want one that also has training in mind healing along with optic healing,” Hermione said, nervously rubbing her fingers along the seam of her shirt. 

The healer paused and looked through a couple sheets of paper. 

“I think this one is your best option. He studied in France so there is little chance you or Mr. Potter will know him which should help the awestruckness. He studied mind healing before specializing in optic healing. He is extremely well trained.” 

“How soon can I get him here?” 

“Well I can send him a request, and I will let you know if that is what you’d like.” 

Hermione nodded. She felt faint. The last few days had been rough and she had only eaten whatever Ron had forced into her. 

“Thank you,” she whispered before walking away. 

She returned to Ron and sat down. 

“He is going to be okay,” she said convincingly. The problem was she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, Ron or herself. 

  
  


____________

  
  


The floo ringed with warning of somebody coming but Harry ignored it. He didn’t care who it was. 

“Harry?” Ron called, “I have someone who needs to meet you.” 

Harry just snorted before rolling over in his bed. He didn’t give a shit about who wanted to meet him. He just wanted to sleep and forget his life. 

“I’m coming in,” Ron shouted from outside his bedroom door. 

The door opened silently and it made Harry angrier. He hated not being able to see where people were and not being able to hear them made it worse. 

“I brought you a healer,” Ron said hesitantly, “Hermione was supposed to be here but there was an emergency at work. This is Derek, a mind and optic healer.” 

Harry gritted his teeth.

“I told you I don’t want a healer. Get rid of him.” 

“No,” Ron said stubbornly. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Potter,” said the new voice. 

Harry listened curiously. The healer sounded French. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“What would you like me to call you?” The healer asked. 

“Absolutely nothing, because I don’t need you, and I’d like you to leave,” Harry said angrily. He didn’t need a healer. They couldn’t do anything to help him. 

“You actually do need me, and I’m not leaving until I help you,” the healer said fiercely. The light accent made something twist in Harry’s stomach. 

Harry stayed silent. Part of him wanted to let the healer try because nobody had stood up to him like this yet. Let him try, it’s not like he will get anywhere. 

“Fine. Call me Harry.” 

“Then please call me Derek.” 

Harry heard some shuffling and squeezed his eyes shut harder. He was tired of not being able to see what was happening. He wanted his life back. 

“I’m going to go Harry,” Ron said. 

Harry just nodded. 

“Sure, go back to your life, tell Hermione hi,” he said bitterly. 

Ron didn’t answer, Harry could hear the echo of his footsteps leaving. 

“That wasn’t nice,” Derek stated, his accent making his voice sound even judgier. 

“Fuck off.” 

“So following normal recovery programs I will be staying here with you for the following month. Ron said there was a guest room here I could use, can you show me?” 

Harry started to get up before he remembered his life and laid back down. 

“It’s down the hall to the left, there’s a bathroom attached.” 

Derek cleared his throat. 

“Can you show me?” 

“I can’t see,” Harry muttered angrily. 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t show me.” 

“I can’t get around okay!” Harry shouted. How dare this healer force him to try to function as if life was normal? Life wasn’t normal and it would never be normal again.

“I know,” Derek said softly, “that’s what I’m here for.” 

“I don’t want you here, so if you insist on staying, go find the room yourself,” Harry said before turning away. 

  
  


_____________

  
  


Draco sighed as he walked down the hall to the guest room. When he agreed to this job he did it because of the life debt, but now, he actually wanted to help. He had never seen Potter so defeated. 

Being Derek had never felt so complicated either. Even though his glamour had been perfected over many years, it threatened to fall at the sight of his old classmates. He hadn’t been back to England since the war. 

Draco had strongly considered pretending to not speak much English and just speak in French but decided that was too much. He didn’t want there to be a language barrier between them, that could possibly prevent mental healing. So he decided to keep the accent light and hope that Potter couldn’t recognize his voice. 

The guest room was actually pretty nice. Draco had expected bright garish red colors but the room was actually covered in a nice cool blue with grey accents around the room. 

Draco spent time meticulously arranging his things around the room. That was the one thing he didn’t like about the job, constantly moving around and never really having his own space. He did have multiple apartments and homes around but it wasn’t the same since he was never at any of them for more than a week. 

Draco was still debating how to start the healing process with Potter. He obviously didn’t believe there was anything that could help him. Potter has always responded well to a challenge, maybe that was the answer. The problem was that Potter needed to believe in the progress of healing too. 

Draco set down his owl’s cage on the dresser. Nim was out hunting but she’d find her way here soon enough. Originally he had never meant to keep her but he had slowly fallen in love with her and she travelled everywhere with him. His mother had thought she’d be good for him after the war. 

He didn’t know exactly what had happened to cause Potter’s lack of sight, all he knew was that the damage was complicated, and that it occurred from a curse. 

Part of him strongly believed that half of the problem was mental. That was a common thing among many of his patients. They didn’t want to try to see because they didn’t want to find out they couldn’t. 

Potter had never seemed like a quitter to him though, quite the opposite actually, but he looked so defeated. More defeated than during the war. 

The question was how to fix that. 

  
  


____________

  
  
  


It had taken Harry about two minutes to figure out what the incessant tapping was. He hadn’t heard the sound of an owl at his window in a long time, he had warded almost all owls from even finding his house. 

He tried to ignore the tapping at first before realizing it wasn’t going away. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He tried to picture his room with clarity and took a step in the direction of his window. 

Slowly he walked until he hit the window with a thump. Harry cursed and fumbled around until he found the latch and opened it. 

He heard the rustle of wings before he assumed the owl flew into his room. 

“Hello?” He said hesitantly before mentally slapping himself. Of course the bird wasn’t going to answer.

He tried to listen for the owl but he couldn’t hear a thing. He stumbled back to his bed and sat with his arm outstretched. 

After a minute or so he felt the nudge of something soft against his hand. 

Harry mentally did a tally of all of his friends' owls and couldn’t figure out who’s it would be. Pig would be flying crazily around the room, Hermione’s would be much louder, Luna never sends owls, and he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in a long time. 

Harry tentatively pet the owl. It felt small and it let out a soft cooing noise. Harry let out a sigh of relief that it didn’t try to bite off his fingers. He tried to feel for a message or something, not that he could read it, but felt nothing. 

“What are you doing here,” he asked softly. 

The owl cooed and nuzzled closer into his hand. 

“Nim! What are you doing in here? I am so sorry,” Derek shouted, causing Harry to jump and blindly reach for his wand under his pillow. 

Harry tried to calm his racing heart and he gripped his wand tightly. He hadn’t realized until now how terrifying it was not to see. 

“You can put down your wand, I’m sorry I startled you,” Derek said. 

Harry slowly lowered the wand but didn’t release it from his grasp. 

“This is Nim,” Derek said before placing her back within Harry’s reach. 

Harry dropped his wand and reached out to feel the soft feathers. It made him miss Hedwig. 

“Is that it’s full name?” 

“It’s actually Nimbus,” Derek said, his voice sounding embarrassed, “I named her after one of my favorite brooms. The Nimbus 2001.” 

Harry felt a pull of nostalgia as he remembered his first broom and racing for the snitch. He remembered when Malfoy’s father bought all the Slytherins' brooms. The rush he had gotten from playing quidditch and beating Malfoy. 

“I pla-” Harry paused and cleared his throat. “I used to play quidditch.” 

“Me too,” Derek said quietly, “would you like to make that a goal? To fly again?” 

Harry pulled away from Nim and gripped his wand again. 

“I can’t see. I will never fly and it is best if I accept that now.” 

“I disagree,” Derek said simply, “I am the best healer in this field. That is a fact. And I will make you see again, but it will take effort on your part to make that happen.” 

“You sound like an arrogant prat.” 

“Maybe I am an arrogant prat.” 

“Well I don’t care. Because arrogance will get you nowhere and soon you will be out of my house and let me live the remainder of my pathetic life in peace.” 

Derek cleared his voice. 

“I think you should clean yourself up. I’m going to cook breakfast. The hospital helped you learn to navigate cleaning I presume?” 

Harry angrily clenched his fists. 

“Yes I can bathe myself. I’m not a complete hopeless mess.” 

“That wasn’t what I was implying. I was just making sure you could get to your bathroom safely.” 

“I’m fine, just leave.” 

  
  


_______________

  
  


Progress had been slower than with most patients due to Potter fighting him at everything. It had been a week and still very little progress had been made. 

The only thing he truly had accomplished was getting Potter to get out of bed everyday. And even that could barely be considered an accomplishment. 

Draco needed to work differently. He had finally come to the conclusion that he was going to have to be much more Slytherin about this. If he wanted Potter to work, he was going to have to manipulate him into it. 

It was almost noon and Potter had gotten up once and then refused to work. 

Draco looked in the mirror to make sure his glamour was holding, not that Potter could see, but there was always a chance Weasley or Granger could stop by. 

His eyes were more blue than their normal grey, his hair style slightly changed, his nose was barely different, and so was his chin and cheek bones. 

“I’m coming in,” he called out before entering Potter’s room.

The room was a wreck. The lamp was broken on the floor, pictures were shattered, clothes were everywhere, and Potter was laying on the bed with a bottle in his hand. 

“What is the matter with you?” Draco exclaimed as he grabbed the Fire Whiskey. “You could seriously hurt yourself in here!” 

“What is the matter with me?” Potter asked, his voice slurred, “I am blind! That is what the matter is! And who cares if I get hurt, I’m already blind, nothing can hurt worse then the fact my life is over.”

Draco had been hearing this over and over for the last week and he was really starting to get tired of it. Most of his patients went through a phase of depression and adjustment, but never this bad. And usually they at least tried to get better. 

“Your life isn’t over you tosser!” Draco had never been so rude with a patient, but he had decided he needed to give Potter a good kick in the ass to get him moving. Plus, it was Potter. 

“How do you know?” Potter slurred, sitting up and turning towards Draco’s voice, “you can see! You are supposedly a successful healer!”

“Exactly!” Draco shouted back, “I  _ am  _ a successful healer, so why don’t you actually let me do my job and help you?” 

Potter remained silent. 

“I am done trying to force you to want to get better. You’re absolutely right, you can’t do it. I have not the slightest clue why I am even bothering with you.” 

Draco observed as emotions flirted across Potter’s face before his lips twisted into a smirk. 

“You sound a lot like someone I used to know,” Harry said softly. 

“Did you like him?” 

Harry let out a loud laugh. 

“Fuck no. He was an absolute tosser. But he did make life interesting.” 

Draco started to get that funny feeling in his gut when someone was talking about him. 

“Well I’m flattered,” he said sarcastically. At least Potter seemed amused. 

“You have two weeks,” Potter said simply. 

“Two weeks?” Draco asked, his voice slowly trailing off. 

“To fix me.” 

Draco took a deep breath. It would be pushing it, but he knew he could help, he just needed some effort from Potter. True effort. 

“Will you actually try? Because if you don’t try it is all a waste of time.” 

Draco observed as Potter clenched his fists tightly before releasing them and nodding. 

“Good. We start now.” 

Potter’s eyes flashed open, not seeing, but looking startled all the same. 

“Now?” 

“Well you gave me two weeks,” Draco said deadpanned, “that starts now, and I need all the time I can get. So I want to start just by talking things through. More mental healing if you will.” 

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

Draco itched to ask many questions but resisted the urge. Asking about certain parts of the war pertaining to him would really blow his cover. 

“How did this happen?” 

Potter gritted his teeth. 

“You have the file. I’m sure you’ve read it. You already know.” 

“I’d like to hear it from you.” 

Potter stayed silent. After a minute or two Draco decided he wasn’t going to answer, and then he started to talk. 

“I was walking through Diagon Alley. There wasn’t exactly a particular reason why, I just had the day off and was shopping around. Well, it turns out there are plenty of people who aren’t fans of mine,” Potter’s voice turned bitter, “someone cursed me from behind and it took me down. I should’ve been prepared. I’m an Auror and I was completely unprepared,” he paused to run his hand through his hair. “I never saw who it was, but it was a man. He said I deserved it. And now my sight is gone and my life is over. End of story.” 

“Were there no witnesses?” 

“None that would speak up.” 

Draco decided to move on. 

“I know you are angry over the loss of sight, as anyone would be, but I know you’re also angry for other reasons. Care to explain?” 

“You know who I am,” Potter said bitterly, “everyone does. I am Harry bloody Potter and everyone knows it and I never got a say in that! It’s ironic, back at Hogwarts, an old rival used to say that I loved the attention, loved being extraordinary, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. I’ve always wanted to be average, to live an ordinary life. Ordinary people aren’t cursed and their sight taken away.” 

Draco felt a small bit of guilt. It had taken him many years after the war to truly grow up and come to terms with everything that had happened. It had taken longer to realize how wrong he had been about everything, including Potter. 

“What if you could be ordinary?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well I mean, you could’ve run away, used glamours, become a new person. Why didn’t you?” It was what Draco had done. He still wasn’t sure if it had been the right choice. 

“Because life isn’t that simple. It would’ve been the cowardly and selfish way out. I would’ve abandoned people who I love, and I couldn’t do that.” 

The words hit Draco deep. Not the cowardly part, he’d accepted that long ago, but the part about abandoning loved ones. He had left and never looked back. There were many times where he had been tempted to contact people, but each time he reminded himself he wanted a fresh start, to be someone new. 

“Why do you want your sight back?” 

Potter gave him such a stupid look that Draco forgot he couldn’t really see him for a moment. 

“To see obviously.” 

“Let me rephrase. You’ve mentioned multiple times how your life is over, what things do you want to gain back?” 

“Everything? I want to see life.” 

Draco shook his head, Potter was so dense sometimes. 

“Dig a touch deeper, I’m sure you can do it.” 

Potter sighed. 

“I’d like to see the stars during the night, I’d like to see my friends continue to fall in love and get married, I’d like to see the ocean, I’d like to be able to fly, I’d like to be able to see color and beauty, I just want to experience life.” 

Draco stayed quiet for a moment before responding. 

“Now keep remembering all of those things. I need you to be motivated to see, I need you to believe, and remembering all those little things that are important to you will help.” 

“Alright. I promise I will try to believe.” 

“Good enough to me,” Draco said as he smiled over the small victory. 

  
  


_____________

  
  


Harry sat in his living room on the sofa and continued to do small wandless magic things. He had summoned things from all over the house for no reason other than to distract himself even though he couldn’t see the things. 

His mind kept wandering back to Derek. Derek who had a strangely soothing presence despite being sarcastic and challenging. 

He couldn’t figure out who Derek reminded him of, but he felt so familiar even though he knew he didn’t know any French people aside from Fleur. 

The past few days had been surprisingly pleasant. They had talked about more things and Harry kept pushing Derek to open up but he still didn’t really know anything personal about him. They had also done some intense healing things with spells. There had been one moment where Harry had seen a touch of light and he had been finally filled with a bit of hope.

The sessions continued everyday, their intensity increasing day by day. Harry was mentally and physically exhausted, but he kind of loved it. He hadn’t felt so challenged in forever, since Hogwarts really. 

“I’d like to go out,” Derek exclaimed as he loudly entered the room, attempting not to startle Harry. That was something Harry really liked about Derek, he did so many subtle things to make sure Harry was comfortable. Making sure not to scare him, putting things back where Harry could easily find them, helping him around. Even though it was his job, Harry felt like Derek went above what most healers would do. 

“Then go out, you aren’t my prisoner.” 

“I’d like to go out with you, you tosser,” Derek said, his French accent making the insult sound funny. 

There was also that. Derek didn’t treat him like an invalid or a celebrity. He treated him as an equal, something most people never did. Derek didn’t kiss up to him and he appreciated it. 

“Out with me? Like a date?” Harry teased. 

Derek stayed quiet for a quick second. 

“No you wanker. But you need to go out, it’s not healthy to stay inside constantly.” 

Harry felt his pulse jump. 

“Nobody can see me like this.” 

“Tu es parfait, ne pense pas aux autres,” Derek whispered. 

Harry remained quiet. Derek sounded so beautiful. He wished he could just sit, forget the world, and listen to him talk in French. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“You are perfect, don’t think about others.” 

“I am Harry Potter, that is who I am. That is why I can’t fucking see. I can’t just forget people.” 

“I know, but you need to get out, I think acceptance of your blindness and moving on with your life will help you heal.” 

“Fine, lets go.” 

“Sweet,” Derek said cheerfully before grabbing Harry’s hand. 

Harry felt his heart quicken and felt snitches flying around his stomach. 

Derek dragged him off the couch. 

“I am going to apparate us to the Three Broomsticks, someone told me that was good. Do you remember your spells to keep yourself aware?” 

Harry nodded. Derek has taught him spells that alerted him of his surroundings and when he was getting near to hitting something. 

“Alright,” Derek murmured. 

Harry felt the familiar pull of apparation and squeezed Derek’s hand tightly. 

“We’re here.” 

Harry didn’t like this at all. He knew that reporters would come to see the tragedy that he had become, and he didn’t like knowing he couldn’t see them. Derek was his only comfort, but even that wasn’t enough to make him feel that comfortable. 

“Set the scene,” Harry whispered. It was something that he and Derek had recently been trying. Derek would explain everything from the surrounding to the people around them, it calmed Harry down. 

“There are a bunch of tables, but since it’s only three there aren’t many people here. In the back corner there is a man sitting alone, in one of the middle tables there are three women talking and laughing, and at the bar there is a lone woman who looks to be around 40.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said as he clenched his wand. Every one of his instincts were screaming at him for being so unaware. His Auror training had taught him to be constantly aware, and right now he was depending on a French healer.. great. 

Derek dragged him in the direction of the bar and helped him sit in a stool. 

Harry heard a lady gasp. 

“Harry! I haven’t seen you around in ages. Ron came through a week ago and told me about everything; how are you doing dear?” 

Harry smiled, he’d always loved coming and seeing Rosmerta. 

“I’m doing alright. This is Derek,” Harry gestured to his right. 

“Other side,” Derek laughed and grabbed onto Harry’s left hand. 

“Oh,” Harry said quietly. He didn’t like not seeing. He didn’t like feeling like an idiot. He didn’t like anything about this. 

“You’re okay, nobody is paying attention to you,” Derek whispered into his ear, “I’m right here with you. I promise you are safe.” 

“Butterbeer?” 

“What is that?” Derek asked, his accent coming out thickly. 

Harry burst out laughing. 

“It’s good, trust me. We’ll have two,” he said, hopefully in the direction of Rosmerta. 

He waited a minute all tensed up. He could hear other people talking and moving around, but not being able to see it was horrible. He had spent his whole life looking out for himself, and not being about to see was an absolute nightmare. 

He heard the butterbeers being set out. 

“On the house dear, let me know if there is anything else you need.” 

Derek helped guide his hand to the handle of the drink. 

“Try to visualize the drink. Imagine the glass and the drink. Try to picture it with absolute clarity.” 

Harry imagines the drink as he listened to Derk perform spells on him. Supposedly the spells were healing his optic nerves, but he wasn’t sure. If Derek was healing him he didn’t know why he needed to do so many visualizing exercises. 

Harry saw a quick flash of white light. It came so suddenly out of the darkness that he let out a small sound of surprise and his hand jerked up and the butterbeer went tipping over onto his lap. 

“Oh,” Derek said, sounding startled, “I’m so sorry, I got it.” 

He heard Derek perform scourgify and some other spells but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out, and never come back. He could hear people taking pictures. He could hear the hushed whispers. 

Harry pulled away from Derek and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to be around anyone. He pictured Godric's Hollow as clearly as he could, pictured his parents grave, and apparated. 

  
  


_______________

  
  


Draco was panicking. He had never ever lost a patient. Figures Potter would be his first. This was all his fault, he shouldn’t have pushed him to leave the house. He had stupidly thought getting out would be productive and good for his mental health. 

“Where would he go,” Draco asked frantically to Rosmerta. He knew Potter wouldn’t go home, not after this. He would go somewhere he perceived as safe, and Draco knew for some reason that wouldn’t be his home. 

“Maybe check Hogwarts?” 

Draco knew that wasn’t right. Potter would’ve gone somewhere much more private. Somewhere that mattered. Dumbledore’s grave? No. His parents' graves. Where was that? He should know this. 

“Where were the Potter’s buried?” 

“I believe Godric’s Hollow.” 

“Thanks,” Draco said hurriedly. 

Draco was thankful that he had been to Godric’s Hollow before. He pictured the house he had visited once and apparated. 

The house came into sight and Draco looked around. He had never been to the graveyard and he wasn’t sure how close it was. 

Draco ran until he came across someone. 

“Where is the cemetery?” 

“It’s that way,” the lady pointed before walking away. 

Draco cursed under his breath and started running. This was all his fault. Pushing Potter had been a mistake. Everything he had been doing with Potter was a mistake. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken this job. Maybe it was too personal. 

He passed a couple streets before he saw the gateway to the cemetery. He opened the gate and it screeched loudly. It was still light out, but chills went through Draco. He hated cemeteries. After the war he had visited enough to last a lifetime. 

“Potter?” He yelled as he ran past gravestones. “I’m so sorry,” he shouted, “I shouldn’t have pushed you. Please! Where are you?” 

No reply came and he kept passing gravestones, scanning the area. 

He was running so quickly he almost missed him. Harry was laying in front of two gravestones, staring up into the sky. 

He stayed where he was watching and listening for a second. He watched as Harry cast some sort of explosive spell into the sky. 

“Fuck my life!” Harry shouted, “I did everything I was supposed to! I killed him! I did everything and yet I am still fucked over! Let me die,” Harry screamed into the sky. 

Draco rushes over, grabbing Harry’s wand out of his hand and pinning him to the ground. 

“It’s okay Potter. I’m here, I am so sorry,” Draco whispered. 

“Go away Derek, let me go. I just want all the pain to end,” Harry whispered. 

“You don’t get to quit. I know it hurts, and I know you don’t deserve it, but it will get better.” 

Harry fell limp in his arms and Draco tensed. Harry was so beautiful. He wished he could see that. Wait, not Harry, Potter. 

“When does it get better? Everyone promises it will get better. I have done everything right! Don’t I deserve peace?” 

Draco felt his heart break a tiny bit for the broken boy before him. He had never cared so deeply for a patient, but then again, he had never had such intense history with one either. Harry Potter was always the exception. 

“You deserve everything,” he whispered. 

Potter collapsed into tears. His green eyes were unfocused but so bright. He hadn’t been wearing his typical glasses due to not needing them and his eyes seemed brighter than ever. 

Potter leaned forward, brushing his lips against Draco’s. For a quick second Draco lingered, before quickly pulling away. 

“That-” Draco paused to breathe, “that can’t happen. I am your healer. I am here to help you see again. We can’t do that.” 

Draco’s heart was beating out of his chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Potter wasn’t even gay. 

Potter pulled away as if he was burned. 

“Of course,” he said, “I’m sorry.” 

Draco didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t supposed to like Potter. He was here to fulfill his life debt and that was all. 

“We should get back to your place,” he muttered before grabbing onto Potter. 

Potter nodded, eyes glazed over, and remaining mute. 

  
  


____________

  
  
  


Draco cast a tempus for the fifth time in the last minute. He had scheduled a meeting between him and Granger and Weasley. He couldn’t continue being Potter’s healer. 

Granger entered the small muggle cafe first. She sat down and shook his hand politely. If only she knew who he really was. She’d probably punch him in the face again. 

“Is something wrong with Harry?” She asked. Granger had always been one to get to the point. 

Draco sighed, he couldn’t exactly say he couldn’t keep working cause Potter somehow was fucking attractive. Nope, couldn’t say that. 

“Nothing is wrong with Harry,” it felt so wrong to say his name, “his sight has slightly improved, he has started to see lights and bright things. But I think it is time that we part ways, our.. vision for the future does not mesh.” 

Granger sat there and nodded. 

“What does that exactly mean?” 

Draco swallowed nervously. This was so wrong, this was Potter. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. Potter was his patient. 

“It just means our views are conflicting.” 

“In what ways? Is he unwilling to work? Because I can talk to him.” 

“I can’t discuss that, patient and healer confidentiality and all.” 

Granger sat there and stared at him. Draco had to resist the urge to check his hair. 

“You like him,” she stated so suddenly that people turned to stare at them. 

Draco’s heart stopped. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“And he likes you,” she guessed.

“I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Draco was starting to consider pretending to not understand any more English and just speak French. 

“Yes you do. And you can’t give up on him because of a couple feelings. He needs this, he needs you. You can help him, and you took an oath to do everything you can for him.” 

Draco could feel the guilt clawing up his chest. He kept reminding himself if Potter knew that he was Derek he never would’ve wanted his help anyway. 

“I can’t keep working with him, I can refer you to several successful and well known healers.” 

Weasley came bursting through the doors, practically yelling.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I got caught up at work.” 

“Be quiet Ron, other people are trying to enjoy their days,” Granger scolded. 

“Sorry Mione,” Ron mumbled, “why are we here?” 

“Derek wants to resign as Harry’s healer.” 

“Why?” 

“He likes him.” 

Draco rested his head in his hands. There was no point in arguing with them. One thing he learned in Hogwarts: the trio always got what they wanted. 

“Damn mate,” Weasley said before patting Draco’s shoulder. “Harry hasn’t been interested in someone in a long time.” 

“I don’t care,” Draco slipped on the Malfoy mask, at least it was good for something, “I cannot be his crutch. He needs to heal, and he can’t be dependent on me in that way.”

“Harry is the savior of everything,” Granger said, her eyes steeling over, “I don’t care if your emotions are troubling. He can’t see, and you can fix that. Merlin help me if you run away and leave him blind I will ki-”

“Hermione calm down!” Weasley whispered. 

“There are others who can help,” Draco whispered. He didn’t need to be reminded of what he owed Potter. 

“Well you’re here, and you’ve helped him improve, he even appears happier, or at least motivated. So I swear you do not get to leave.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Draco whispered. 

“Then stay. For at least another week. Help him heal and then you can disappear.” 

“Fine.” 

  
  


_____________

  
  


“I’d like to talk,” Derek said as Harry laid in bed. He didn’t want to move or to talk or to do anything. 

“No thanks.” 

“Yes.” 

“No, you’ve done what you came here to do, I can see blurry shit, so you can go.” 

“I came here to make you see! To make you see like you used to you absolute tosser!” Derek’s voice sounded aggravated and for some reason Harry loved it. 

“Well we don’t all get what we want, do we?” Harry’s tone was sarcastic but he didn’t care. He was so sick of life he just didn’t care. 

“No we don’t,” Derek said quietly, “but I can give you back your sight. Isn’t that enough?” 

“I want you,” Harry whispered. As he said it aloud he realized how true it really was. Over the last few weeks he had gotten used to having Derek around. And maybe it was just some fucked up emotional connection due to Derek healing him, but he didn’t think so. He liked the stupid things about Derek. Like how he constantly challenged him and wasn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. Or how Derek was constantly eating chocolate. Or the way Derek sounded so excited when talking about quidditch. Or how he always smelt of some expensive, pompous shampoo. 

“I can’t, I am your healer.” 

“Quit! I don’t care, I was told I would never see anyway, so just quit!” 

“I can make you see! I just need you to believe it too! That has been the issue, half of the healing has to do with mentality. You will never see if you don’t truly believe you will. If you are to scared to try, you never will.” 

Harry let out a sarcastic, sardonic laugh. 

“So you’re saying if I’m not brave enough to see I’ll never see? You know, the funny thing is, everyone always said I was so brave. Now look at me, to pathetic to see.” 

“That isn’t what I’m saying,” Derek sounded strained, “I’m saying we can do this. But we can’t have any sort of.. romantic relationship.” 

“Are you even gay?” Harry asked with a sudden realization. He never even asked if Derek liked guys. Hell, Harry himself hadn’t come out to the public yet. 

Derek let out a soft laugh. 

“Yes, I am gay.” 

“So you just don’t like me?” 

“I can’t like you! You are my patient and it is extremely illegal and wrong to like you!” Derek shouted. 

Harry remained quiet for a second. 

“You didn’t deny liking me, just that you can’t.” 

“Yeah well, just because I can’t act on anything doesn’t mean I can control my emotions.” 

“Then heal me you prat.” 

“I’m the prat? You are a completely selfless bastard.” 

“That’s a bad thing?” Harry joked. 

“No,” Derek said begrudgingly. 

“Well Mr. Best Healer Ever, heal me.” 

  
  


_____________

  
  


Draco rubbed his palm against his forehead. So far he had gotten Harry to the point where his eyes stopped hurting and he was seeing large blurs. 

Something was missing though and he just couldn’t figure it out. He was pretty sure that Harry was trying, and Draco has done all of the healing spells properly and repetitively. Harry’s optic nerves appeared to be healing nicely, but his sight still wasn’t back to what it used to be. 

Maybe he wasn’t focused enough. What if he screwed something up due to distractions? 

“Derek?” Harry called from the other room. 

“I’m coming!”

Draco left his room and walked down the hall to Harry’s. 

“What wrong?” 

“I’m bored out of my mind,” Harry whined. Normally Draco would consider someone whining to be an annoyance, but for some reason Harry did it justice. He was… cute or something. 

“Well, there was something I was hoping I could see actually,” Draco said. 

“What?” 

“Could I see the pensive of when you were attacked? I’m hoping that it’ll show me something I’ve missed, maybe give me insight on what happened.” 

Harry’s face was unreadable. 

“I guess. There’s a pensive in the closet.” 

Draco was surprised Harry kept a pensive. Draco himself wasn’t sure if Malfoy Manor even kept a pensive. 

Draco walked over to the closet. Inside was everything from muggle clothes to fancy robes. There was a box full of things and next to it sat the pensive with a bottle of the liquid. Draco really wanted to look through the box but he resisted the urge to snoop. 

“Here,” he said, placing the pensive in front of Harry and pouring in the liquid. 

Harry placed the tip of his wand to his head and took out the memory and placed it in the pensive. 

“There,” he whispered and turned away. 

“Thank you.” 

Draco stuck his head into the liquid and was instantly transported to Diagon Alley. He looked around and instantly found Harry. 

A small crowd surrounded him but he didn’t appear to pay much attention to them. All of his attention seemed to be on a broom. The newest Firebolt. Draco himself had wanted to buy the model. But no, Harry wasn’t staring at the new model, he was looking at the miniature solid gold model of the original Firebolt. Harry’s old one if he wasn’t mistaken. 

Harry stood there for several minutes before finally turning away from the window. 

Draco didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He walked quickly through the crowd of people to keep up with him and suddenly everything went black. 

Draco pulled away from the pensive with a gasp and leaned back. 

“That was…”

“Sudden right?” Harry said bitterly, “I didn’t see anything coming.” 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to fix all of it.” Draco was suddenly more determined than before. The situation wasn’t fair at all. Harry didn’t deserve it, not after everything he’s done. 

“I trust you,” Harry said earnestly. 

Draco felt a pang of guilt go through him. Harry shouldn’t trust him, he was a liar. Harry didn’t know who he really was. Draco was a fake, he was a fraud. And somehow Harry Potter trusted him, even if it was all a lie. 

“You shouldn’t,” he mumbled. 

Harry blindly reached out and Draco grasped his hand. 

“I don’t know you, and I know you’re hiding something. But I promised I won’t judge when you decide to be fully honest. Until then, I trust you.” 

Draco felt his heart jump. He wished he could believe him. But Harry didn’t have a single clue, he probably thought he was hiding something minor, not that he was his childhood enemy. 

“Thanks,” he whispered. 

“I think I’m ready,” Harry said quietly. 

“Good, me too.” 

Draco took a deep breath and aimed his wand at Harry’s head. He knew what had been missing in Harry’s healing process, acceptance. Acceptance of the unknown, acceptance of the possibility of healing, and acceptance of each other. Cause as much as Harry pushed away healing, Draco was pushing away Harry. 

Draco started to chant the healing spells along with channeling every emotion into the spells. He kept saying the spells over and over until he watched Harry screw his face up and yell. 

Harry kept screaming for a couple of seconds before he fell back onto the bed unconscious. 

  
  


_____________

  
  
  


Harry opened his eyes. It was bright. Everything was so bright. He shut them quickly. The light hurt. His head hurt. What was going on?

“Harry, can you see me?” 

Harry opened his eyes again and squinted. He couldn’t see anything, just big blurs. 

“Oh shit,” someone muttered before shoving glasses onto his face. 

The blurs came into focus. At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Ron and Hermione waited at the end of his bed with baited breath, and… well there stood Derek. Derek, tall and handsome Derek. 

“I can see,” he said. 

“Well I would hope so,” Derek said with a smirk, “after that very dramatic pass out if you couldn’t see I’d be rather upset.” 

“That’s amazing,” Hermione cried out. 

“Happy to have you back mate,” Ron said with a smile. 

“Go on a date with me,” Harry blurted out to Derek. 

Derek froze. 

“That’s an odd way of saying thank you.” 

“One date, that’s all I’m asking,” Harry begged. He wasn’t sure why but it felt important. He needed to get to know Derek. He was the only person who had made him feel alive in a long time. 

“We’re gonna give you a minute,” Ron whispered before leaving with Hermione. 

“I am your healer, this isn’t appropriate.”

“Not anymore,” Harry grinned, “I can see. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t know me. You don’t know who I am or what I’ve done.” 

“I don’t care. Everyone has a past, it’s time to move forward. I’d like to move forward by taking you out.” 

“I won’t be good for you. You can see, it’s time to go back to your life,” Derek said. 

“I want you in my life. It was dark before all of this, and then it was even darker, but you brought out the light. I don’t want to go back to the darkness,” Harry whispered. 

“I am darkness, you don’t know me. I will only hurt you.” 

“Give me a chance to know you, I might surprise you.” 

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dereks. Derek remained still but then pressed back. Slowly moving his lips against Harry’s before he pulled away.

“I don’t know.”

“Stop thinking,” Harry ordered, “go on a date with me.” 

“Okay,” Derek whispered. 

“Why do I still need glasses?” 

Derek cracked a smile. 

“I figured you’d like everything to go back as normal, which included normal crappy sight. I can fix that if you’d like.” 

Harry hesitated and touched the rim of his glasses. 

“It’s alright. They’re a part of me.” 

“Well then, I officially resign as your healer,” Derek cracked a smile. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. He hadn’t thought he would ever see again. He and Derek had spent many days doing different exercises and spells and nothing had been helping. 

“Well, you can pay for dinner,” Derek said with a smirk, “after all, the food around here has been truly atrocious.” 

Harry winced. Ever since the accident he hadn’t really cared about food, therefore he hadn’t kept much food around. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been a real ass.” 

Derek smirked and Harry got an uncanny feeling of deja vu. Derek reminded him strongly of someone, he just wasn’t sure who. 

“Yeah well, I didn’t know what I expected, you are Harry Potter.” 

Harry felt a sinking feeling. He was Harry Potter. What if Derek was only interested in his name, or his fame?

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Harry fucking Potter.” 

Ron poked his head through the door. 

“Are you guys all done talking about awkward stuff?” 

“Yes,” Harry said with a small laugh. 

“Thank god, I don’t know if I wanted to watch you struggle anymore mate. You really need to up your flirting skills.” 

“Haha.” 

“So Derek, you really think you can handle Harry?” Ron asked. 

Derek fiddled with his shirt sleeves somewhat nervously. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Only one way to find out,” Ron said with a grin. 

“Have you found out who did this to me?” Harry interrupted. 

Ron’s face turned grim.

“Sorry mate, but we’ve had no luck. Whoever did it left behind no clues.” 

Harry sighed. 

“I can’t come back to being an Auror. I don’t want to.” 

“I expected that, what are you going to do?” 

“Probably float around for a while, go on a date,” he said while smiling at Derek. Derek really was beautiful.

“Better take me somewhere expensive. Dress nice too Potter, you’ve really been a slob lately,” Derek teased, giving Harry a once over. 

“I will,” Harry promised. 

  
  


______________

  
  
  


Draco stared at himself in the mirror. Not his glamoured self, but just him. The dark mark stood out starkly against his skin. He wanted to say he was used to it, but he didn’t think he’d ever be comfortable with it. 

Harry was supposed to come get him in half an hour and Draco just couldn’t motivate himself to get ready. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go, cause Merlin he did, but he didn’t want to see the look of disgust on Harry’s face when he realized Derek was Draco. 

Draco stayed there staring into the mirror for what felt like an eternity. He was a coward, always was. He has hidden away, never given anyone the opportunity to judge. And he wasn’t going to start now. 

He grabbed his wand and started to pack things hastily into his bag. He couldn’t stay, he had to go. 

Harry deserved better. He could do so much better then Draco. Draco just wished he could be good enough. 

Somehow during the time when he cooked for Harry, talked to him, healed him, and overall watched over him and learned more about him, he had stupidly irrevocably fallen in love with the git. 

A sudden knock on his door caused Draco to drop the pair of shoes he had been holding. Harry was here. Draco needed to leave. Now. 

He grabbed his bag where he had shoved in his best robes and a couple random things, he’d come back later for other stuff. With one last glance around the room, he apparated away. 

  
  


_____________

  
  
  


Harry was torn between complete annoyance and embarrassment. He had stood at what he believed was Derek’s doorstep for half an hour. 

Derek had given him an address and had told him to “dress nice.” But Derek wasn’t here. 

What if something happened to him? Or maybe he had a medical emergency to go fix. Or.. what if someone found out Derek had helped him and they took him? 

Harry could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. It was his fault. He either scared Derek away, or something happened to him because of him. 

Harry banged on the door again. No answer. Well... extreme situations call for extreme solutions. 

“Alohomora!” 

The door unlocked silently and Harry turned the handle. 

“Derek?” 

He wasn’t surprised when no one responded, but he still hoped. He could practically hear Moody growling in his ear ‘constant vigilance.’ Moody would have been ashamed at how unprepared and careless Harry was being. 

He scanned the room, searching for some sign of struggle. Some sort of proof Derek was taken against his will. Or something. 

The place was immaculate. Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. The furniture was very stylish, but also looked quite comfortable. The whole apartment screamed warmth and safety. But Derek wasn’t here. 

Harry pushes open the last door in the place. It gave way to a large master bedroom, and it was a wreck. Not a wreck in the way it looked like he was taken against his will, but a wreck in the way it looked like he had left in a rush. 

Clothes were strewn across the floor. A couple of odd items lay on the bed along with more clothes. 

“He left,” Harry whispered to himself, “just like everyone.” 

Harry glances one last time around the room before apparating back to his place. He was just so tired. Tired of everything. 

  
  


__________

  
  
  


Draco had thought he would’ve felt happier being back in France, but he was miserable. Even his mother had noticed. 

He missed Harry. It had taken Draco a while to realize what the feeling was, but he missed him. He missed the banter they had, and the way Harry challenged him like no other. He missed watching the prat pour a gallon of sugar in a cup of coffee. 

So instead of looking for his next job or being productive Draco had taken to just lounging around the Malfoy French home. 

He had flipped through a couple case files but none of them held his interest. None of them were Harry. 

Everytime his brain thought of the dark, bespeckled git Draco sent a stinging hex to himself. Turned out he thought of the prat a lot. 

He had always thought of him a lot. Not always in the most flattering of ways, but Harry had always been on his mind since they had been eleven. And here they were, more than ten years later, and Draco still couldn’t get him off his mind. 

Draco picked up a vase and threw it against the nearest wall and watched as it smashed to pieces. The house elves had started calling this room his angry room. He had requested they go out and buy hundreds of vases and other glass things so he could smash them. Sometimes he used magic to fling them into the wall and sometimes he threw them with all his might. There was something strangely therapeutic about watching the glass break into thousands of pieces and fling across the room. That’s how his heart felt, shattered. 

He kept fighting himself about going back to London. He wanted it, he wanted it so bad. The dream everyone has wanted once in their life, to find that one person, and live happily ever after. 

But that person wasn’t Harry, it couldn’t be. Harry definitely hated Draco, and by now he probably hated Derek too. 

And Draco wanted to do what he had always done: blame Harry. But he couldn’t. This time it was all on him. 

Draco picked up a glass bowl and tossed it as far as he could. He watched it slam into the wall and watched as it splintered into millions of pieces. 

“Mr. Malfoy sir,” a squeaky high-pitched voice came from the doorway. 

Draco turned sharply and watched the house elf, Delma, take a step back. The elves were free and paid now, but they still cowered when he was angry. 

“Mrs. Malfoy said to tell you to stop acting like a moron and to come and see her,” Delma said quickly. 

Draco stood up with a sigh, but not before throwing another vase. 

Delma squeaked and moved further away. 

“She’s in the North Parlour sir,” she said before apparating away. 

Draco walked slowly through the halls, staring at pictures and art on the way. He couldn’t even remember a time when this place had been happy. Granted, it used to be their vacation home, but even then the memories were tainted. Lucius had always been working, and Narcissa had been busy following Lucius. 

When he reached the entrance to the North Parlour he knocked before walking in. 

“Hello Mother,” Draco said as he sat in the chair in front of her. 

“We need to talk dear.”

Draco sat quietly and stared at a spot on the wall behind her head. He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. 

“You love him,” she stated, “I know that look, and I know that anger. You are in love with Harry Potter.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said roughly, “he doesn’t even know who I am. As far as he remembers, I was the bully in school who tortured his friends. I’m the one who joined the death eaters. He will never love me, and I can’t keep being Derek.” 

Narcissa sighed. 

“Honey, you are Derek. He is a part of you. You have made mistakes, as we all have, and you were raised that way. And if Mr. Potter is anything like the way he presents himself, he should be able to accept you as you are, for everything that you are.” 

“I lied to him. I left without warning. He will hate me.” 

“You saved his eyesight. And you will never know that he hates you until you fight. And if you fight and lose, at least you will always know you tried. I never fought for what I believed in, and I regret that constantly. I never fought for my family. And I hope I have taught you enough to realize you need to fight.” 

“I’m not a fighter. I’m not anything,” Draco whispered, “I’m just the coward who screwed up.” 

“It’s not too late to change. You already have grown up so much. You are a great man Draco, more so than I or your Father raised you to be. Fight for your love. Show Mr. Potter what an amazing person you are.” 

“Go back to London?” 

“If that is what it takes for you to be happy and to stop smashing glass, then yes, go back to London.” 

“And if he slams the door in my face?” 

“Then you find another way in. And you make him listen.” 

She was right he realized. What did he have to lose? Other than his heart. 

“Okay,” he said quietly, “I’m going back to London.” 

“Good, because I don’t want to have to go through another five years of vase smashing and Harry Potter rants. We had enough of that in your childhood,” Narcissa said with a small smile. 

“Mother!” Draco screeched, turning bright red. 

“Go,” she said with a laugh. 

“Thank you,” he said before rushing out of the room. He needed to find Harry, but he needed to do something first.

  
  


_________

  
  


“Get the fuck up mate,” Ron said sternly pulling of the bed sheets covering Harry, “this is pathetic, even for you,” 

Harry groaned. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to do anything in particular. He just wanted to lay in bed and not move. 

“You fought a war when you were a child, you defeated one of the darkest wizards, you are an Auror, so get out of bed and go after him.” 

“He doesn’t want me,” Harry said into his pillow, “he made that very clear when he packed up and left before our date. It isn’t fair to drag him into this life if he doesn’t want to be in it.”

“You aren’t even trying. You used to get upset because Hermione and I weren’t discussing our feelings, well now it’s your turn!” 

“I am not Hermione or you. You two are made for each other. Derek just helped me see again, because it’s his job.” 

Harry watched as Ron paced around his room. Harry could see Ron’s internal battle of yelling at him and sympathizing. He chose to go with yelling.

“It was more than that and you know it! He brought out something in you that I haven’t seen in a very long time, genuine happiness! I swear if you don’t go out and find him I will do it myself!” Ron shouted. 

Harry snorted. He’d never seen Ron so worked up. 

“I couldn’t find him if I wanted too. He left.” 

Ron hit himself in the head. 

“You are so dense it hurts me sometimes. You are Harry fucking Potter. Use that. Go to St. Mungos and figure out where he really lives.” 

Harry felt a tiny spark of hope. Ron was right. He was Harry Potter. And Harry Potter didn’t ever back down from a fight. 

“You’re the best,” he said to Ron as he jumped out of bed. 

“Put on some clothes!” Ron shouted before he left the room. 

Harry turned and pulled on a random pair of joggers and a t-shirt. 

“Thanks mate,” he said before running to his floo. 

“St. Mungos!” 

Turned out St. Mungos didn’t have a floo, at least not the random public, and Harry would’ve known that if he had stopped to think about it. 

He flew out of a random fireplace and fell to the ground coughing. 

“Who are you!” Shouted a croaky voice. 

Harry adjusted his glasses and stood up. He had no idea where he was.

“Harry Potter sir,” he responded to the old man in front of him. The man was short and crouched over and his wand was shaking but pointed towards him. 

“Harry Potter?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Harry waited to see the classic look of recognition on the man's face but none came. 

“Hmph, well I don’t know you. What the hell are you doing in my home?” 

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. 

“I was trying to find my friend, and I ended up in your floo on accident.” 

The man stared at him suspiciously.

“Well, who’s your friend and where are they,” he said gruffly. 

“Who are you,” Harry asked in turn. 

The man looked Harry up and down, analyzing him. 

“I’m Jet.” 

“Nice to meet you Jet,” Harry said as he extended his hand. 

Jet stared at it. 

“Sure,” he replied with a snort, not shaking his hand and not putting his wand down. 

“I was headed towards St. Mungos,” Harry said awkwardly, “I’m trying to find my friend, Derek. He’s a healer.” 

“Friend?” Jet asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry blushed. 

“Yeah, friend. Kinda. Yeah.”

“Well go get him,” Jet said sternly, “and try not to show up here again.” 

“I will, I’m sorry Mr…?” 

“Mungo. Jet Mungo.” 

Harry nodded before apparating to outside of St. Mungos. He entered the building and saw a huge line in front of the receptionist. He didn’t have time for this. 

“Excuse me,” he said as he shoved past a bunch of different people. They all started to yell at him for cutting before they saw who he was. For once he was happy for being him. 

“I need the address of Derek.. I don’t know his last name. He is a healer and healed my eye and I need to know where he lives,” he said in a rush to the receptionist. 

The girl was young and just stared at him. 

“You’re.. you’re him.” 

“I need his address, please.” 

“You’re Harry Potter,” she said in awe. 

“Yes,” he said impatiently, “can I have his address?” 

“That goes against hospital policy sir.” 

Harry felt his temper rising. He did not have the time for this. He needed to find Derek. He needed to find him now. 

“I am Harry Potter. I’m sure we can make this work,” he said as he pasted on his most charming smile. 

“Can I have an autograph?” 

“Yes,” he said scribbling down his name on a piece of paper. “Now can I have his address?” 

The girl scrambled with a bunch of papers. 

“Are you referring to Healer Derek Mallor?” 

Harry hesitated before nodding. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know Derek’s last name. 

The girl wrote down something on the paper. 

“Here is his floo address. You can use the floo down the hall,” she said pointing to the right. “I’d prefer if you never mentioned how you got this address.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised before rushing down the hallway to the floo. “Maison du changement!” 

He felt the pull of the floo and then he was shoved out and fell to the floor. 

“Hopefully this is the right place,” he muttered to himself, brushing off his robes and standing up. 

The place was… pristine. The walls were covered in art and there were sculptures all around the room. It was like a museum, except more home like. 

“Hello?” He called out as he walked around the room. 

“Who are you,” shouted an elf, appearing in the room with a loud pop. 

“Harry Potter. I’m here to see Derek.” 

The elf’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Um, I will just take you to Master,” the elf said before walking out of the room, expecting Harry to follow. 

Harry glances back at the room before rushing after the elf. For some reason this place reminded him strongly of somewhere he’d been before. Kinda like Grimmauld Place, but fancier. 

They passed through many rooms, each grander than the other. Fancy glittering chandeliers and large tapestries. 

“In here sir,” the elf said, gesturing at a doorway. 

Harry hesitated before entering. This was it. He walked into what appeared to be a library. And then he came face to face with Narcissa Malfoy. 

“What,” he faltered, “What are you doing here?” 

“That is something I should be asking you Mr. Potter. I live here,” her voice was crisp and cold sounding but her eyes held something that looked a lot like amusement. 

Harry felt his racing pulse slow. She lived here? But St. Mungos said Derek lived here. How could she live here?

“I don’t understand.” 

“Well you see, when you become an adult you buy a house, and then generally you live in it,” she said quietly with a small smile. 

“I thought Derek lived here…” Harry was so lost. He didn’t understand what was going on. Was Derek related to the Malfoys? 

“Sit down Harry,” she requested. 

Harry silently nodded and sat on the sofa in front of her. He felt nauseous. 

“Would you prefer I be blunt or gentle?” 

“Blunt,” he whispered. 

“Derek doesn’t exist. At least not in the way you believe. Derek is.. well he is Draco. Draco is Derek. He took on the name Derek to avoid judgement and scrutiny. I can’t speak for him, but he isn’t the same boy you knew at Hogwarts. And whatever you had between the two of you in the past month was real.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. There really wasn’t anything to say. Draco had tricked him. Draco had done what he had always wanted to do, beat him. 

“I have to go,” he said, attempting to stand when Narcissa sent out a jinx that froze him. 

“You will not leave before hearing me out, and only then can you leave,” she said sternly. “Draco may have lied and hidden his true identity, but he didn’t lie about his feelings. Whatever transpired between the two of you was real. At this moment he is back in London, looking for you. Draco hasn’t shown interest in anyone in many years, he has been dedicated to his work. But you are different. You always have been.”

Harry struggled to move but nothing did. Narcissa waved her wand and released his mouth. 

“I had thought he seemed familiar.” 

“He loves you,” she said quietly, “ever since he came back he has been moping and listless.” 

“I love Derek,” Harry mumbled. 

“Draco is Derek.” 

“I don’t know Draco.” 

“Yes you do, think. What things do you love about Derek?” 

Harry paused to think. 

“I love how he doesn’t function in the morning until he’s had at least two cups of coffee, I love how he has never treated me any different, I love how he challenges me like no other, I love that we share similar interests, I love how he always teases me and how he screws with his hair. There are so many reasons I love him.” 

Narcissa has a small smile on her face. She removed the freezing jinx. 

“Go find him.” 

Harry nodded. He needed to find Draco. He was in love with Draco Malfoy. The absolute prick had tricked him into falling in love. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. 

  
  


__________

  
  


After his trip to Diagon Alley Draco had headed straight for Harry’s place where he waited outside the front door. He had knocked multiple times but it didn’t appear that Harry was home. 

“You are such a fucking arsehole,” said a voice from behind him. 

Draco turned around and found himself face to face with Harry. Merlin he was hot. And was also fuming. 

“Nice to see you Potter,” he said coolly. 

He watched as Harry’s face turned a dark red color. 

“Don’t you dare Potter me, Derek.” Harry’s voice was mocking. 

Draco swallowed hard. 

“How’d you figure it out?” 

“Your mother.”

Draco was confused. Since when did Harry talk to his mother?” 

“How..?” 

“I came to find Derek. And I found Narcissa. Who proceeded to tell me I had been lied to and tricked.” 

Draco’s brain froze. Harry wasn’t supposed to have found out like this. He was supposed to have told him. 

“I.. I didn’t mean to trick you,” he stuttered, “I wasn’t supposed to have even liked you. I was doing a job, like normal, and getting out. My identity should never have mattered.” 

“Was it all a lie? All those moments between us? Were you trying to make me out to be a fool,” Harry asked, his voice shaky. 

This was it. The time to prove he was better than he used to be. The time to show Harry he cared. 

“I never thought you were a fool. I took this job because I wanted to right some of the wrongs I made as a child. I came because I knew I could help and you deserved it. I have been Derek professionally as long as I can remember. Nobody wanted Draco Malfoy as a healer, but everyone accepted Derek. And then came your case. I was torn because I didn’t want to lie to you, but if you knew the truth you never would’ve accepted healing from me, and you probably would never have seen again. I was never trying to fall in love with you, but I did. For some reason all of those things that used to piss me off as a kid were suddenly endearing. I know you feel tricked, but it wasn’t a trick. I love you. And I’m so sorry I lied to you.” 

Draco watched as multiple emotions flickered over Harry’s face. First there was anger, then more anger, then confusion, and then something Draco couldn’t read. 

Harry stepped forward and paced his hands on Draco’s cheeks. Then he slapped him. 

“Ouch!” Draco cries out holding his face. 

“That was for lying.” Then Harry leaned forward and kissed him. “And that is for being you.” 

Draco was rarely ever speechless, but this moment was one of those times. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

Harry had a soft smile. 

“I love you too, you bastard.” 

“Thank you for not hating me too much,” Draco said quietly. 

Harry smirked. 

“How angry can I be? You are much hotter this way.” 

“I know,” Draco bent over and grabbed the box by his feet. “I got you this.” 

Harry grabbed the box and opened it. Draco watched as his eyes lit up in recognition. 

“How..? How did you know I wanted this?” Harry asked as he gently pulled out the solid gold floating model of his old Firebolt. “This is absurdly expensive.” 

Draco was pleased. Pansy had always said he was a great gift giver. 

“Consider it an apology and a congratulatory gift on seeing.” 

Harry touched the broom gently. 

“This is a model of my first good broom, my godfather gave it to me.” 

Draco sent him a sad smile, he had heard the tale of Sirius Black and how he really ended. Draco understood the pain of losing someone like that, no words could ever fix that pain. 

“I heard he was a great man,” Draco whispered. 

“He was the best.” 

Draco moved forward and hugged him. 

“To moving forward.”

“To moving forward,” Harry echoed, burying his head in Draco’s neck. 

  
  


__________

(Two years later) 

  
  
  


“Wake up,” a voice whispered into his ear. Harry smiled and rolled over on top of Draco. 

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. 

“Get up!”

Harry groaned. Only Draco would plan a wedding at sunrise. 

“Why are we doing this so early?” He had already asked this twenty thousand times and Draco always gave him the same answer. 

“Because you love me. And because I like sunrises.”

“Because they remind you that there is always light after all the darkness,” Harry said knowingly. 

Draco smiled. 

“Let’s go. You need to look somewhat presentable at our wedding or I will be forced to kill you.” 

“Oh no,” Harry let out a gasp, “not on our wedding night. Er- morning I mean.” 

Draco got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom as Harry cast a tempus. It was two in the bloody morning. 

“If you hurry up I might let you in the shower,” Draco called from the bathroom. 

Harry leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, practically running into him. 

Draco locked eyes with him as he slowly pulled off his clothes. Harry watched with an eager attention. No matter how much time passed, Draco just got hotter with age. Harry also loved how confident Draco was. He stood still as Draco stalked forward and removed Harry’s clothes. 

“That’s better,” he whispered into Harry’s ear, trailing kisses down his neck. 

Draco pulled him into the shower, magically turning on the warm stream of water. Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against Draco’s. He loved how Draco tasted, like vanilla and fancy French wine. 

Draco shoved him back against the shower wall. He leaned down and sucked on the sweet spot on Harry’s neck. 

“Today you go from fiancé to husband,” Draco said, his voice rough. 

“I can’t wait.” 

Harry started to lean down when Draco stopped him. 

“We don’t have time for that.” 

Harry felt a rise of disappointment. 

“But… I want you,” He whispered in what he hoped was a seductive tone. 

“And I don’t want to be late to our wedding,” Draco wiggled out of Harry’s grasp, “save it for our wedding night.” 

Harry sighed and watched Draco as he grabbed the shampoo and started to rub it into Harry’s scalp. 

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

After that they quickly finished showering and slipped into their dress clothes. It originally had been an argument over suits versus dress robes, but eventually Harry won the argument after he introduced Draco to some of the finer muggle brands. 

“Are you ready for this?” Harry asked as he fixed his bow tie.

Draco came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. 

“I’ve never been more ready for something in my entire life.” 

Harry twisted in Draco’s arm, leaning up to kiss him when someone interrupted by banging on the door. Harry groaned loudly. 

“Don’t groan you wanker,” Ron shouted from the other side of the door, “you’re the one who has made everyone get up at an absurd time!” 

“It wasn’t my idea,” he shouted back, playfully glaring at Draco. 

“Please be dressed,” Ron said before shoving open the door, “it’s time to start.” 

Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and followed Ron to the house’s backyard. They had rented the house because of its magnificent backyard and the private beach. It was perfect. 

The sun was slowly rising on the horizon and Harry watched as Draco’s face lit up with such a soft smile. This was why. This was why he agreed to get married at such an absurd time. He would do anything to see Draco look like that.

Hermione had helped them set up rows of seats, all lined with lilies and narcissus in honor of their mums. They had decided not to split the sides between families and people sat scattered. More people had come around to support their relationship then Harry had ever thought possible. 

McGonagall sat to the right, in the middle next to Hagrid. Surprisingly Molly was with Narcissa near the front. Blaise Zabini stood in the front alongside Theodore Nott, Ron, Hermione, Pansy, and Neville. Many other people sat scattered around. 

All heads swiveled to face them. Harry squeezed Draco’s hand. 

“Ready love?” 

“Always.” 

Luna started playing something whimsical and soft. Not typical wedding music, but something beautiful. 

Harry’s heart beat quickly. Today was the day. He was going to be married. 

And then he tripped, pulling Draco with him. Draco screeched and tumbled onto Harry. 

“Seriously Potter. You still haven’t learned to walk? You aren’t five anymore,” he whispered. 

Harry stared at Draco before bursting out laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped between laughs, helping Draco to his feet. 

Everything went smoothly from there. At least until it was time to say their vows. Harry had said his, managing not to stutter or botch it up. Now it was Draco’s turn. 

“It has always been you,” he whispered, “from the first day I met you I knew you were special. I went about it the wrong way when I first met you, but I am so thankful I got a second chance.” Draco paused to catch his breath. A tear slipped down his cheek. “You are everything I need in my life, and I hope I am that for you too. You challenge me in a way that lights up a fire in me. You bring me joy no one else has. You have been the light in my darkness. I promise to love you, even when you are being a prat.” Draco paused as more tears fell. “I promise to stand by you through the good and the bad. I love you, and I will keep loving you. It has always been you. And it always will be.” 

Harry burst into tears. Dammit he’d promised himself he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. But Draco was rarely emotional, and all of this, it was so wonderful. 

“You are a horrendously ugly crier,” Draco whispered through tears. 

“Says you,” Harry whispered. 

The officiate said some other things, Harry tuning out it favor to stare at Draco. 

“You may kiss the groom.” 

Harry practically lunged at Draco, pulling him close and kissing him with all his might.

“Save it for the bedroom!” George shouted from the crowd. 

Harry pulled away groaning. 

“No one is letting me have my way with you,” he whined. 

“We have forever,” Draco whispered, gripping his hand tightly. “You and I. Forever.” 

“Not scared Malfoy?”

“Not a bit.” 

“I love you.” 

“Sop,” Draco responded with a smirk. 

“Prat.” 

“Git.” 

“Tosser.” 

“Jerk.” 

“Arsehole.” 

Somethings would never change. And Harry never wanted them to. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing it. Don’t forget to comment and leave kudos below!


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